Transmission Received in Zone 5 From Australia, 25th of April, 2024

Hello? Is this thing on? Can you hear me?

I cannot say my true name, for I am as good as dead, but I have made a promise to Taipan, the Serpent Who Swallows Its Tail, and I must send this, for hope it reaches someone. We are in the Highlands of Hell’s Door, in the Mulga district. Please. Help us.

Something happened in 2019, at the ends of the War that sent a shiver through the air of the entire country. We lost all contact with the outside world, and vice versa. It is believed commonly that Australia all but disappeared. That is not true. We are still here.

If you know of the Dreamtime, the stories that shaped our world, you will know that it occurs Everywhen - past, present, future. And when the last Pig Bomb dropped, it awoke something ever-present that saw the danger to Its land and swallowed us up into the realm where It would contain the danger as much as possible, in a time out of time. It is thanks only to the years of work of the technicians we have that I can send this. Or hope to, at least. We have sunk back into the Dreaming.

We Dream, and we fight.

Ever present, Better Living Industries rooted itself within us long before the War began, before we even knew. And to Dream of it is to Dream of an abyss, something endless that swallows but does not give back. They have forgotten the rules of this land. That we are interwoven with it so deeply that if they continue on, continue to wipe clean the slate of the landscape that everything will crumble and not even the Serpent will be able to hold it together.

If they succeed, then the destruction of our land will echo through time, through Everywhen. We will cease to Dream. Cease to exist. So please, do not forget about us. You of the Phoenix Witch, brethren of our Serpent, please, Dream of us. Sing of us, and do not forget. Desperation drives us who remain, the Keepers of the Land, to Sing our own spirits into the land, and to take them with us. 

We will Dream, on the day that marked the landing at ANZAC Cove in the time before this. A day of remembrance, and solidarity, and arresting sorrow.

It is dawn, and we will begin to Dream. I can hear the Song that plays through every moment in time of this dawn. I see the Eternal Flame that burnt out when the bomb dropped. And I gaze back into my snake eyes at the edge of the waterhole where It slumbers.

So please, don’t forget us. Close your eyes.

And Dream.